Blood and Brains
by WhoDatWTF
Summary: When Bella Swan, average human, moves to Forks, she gets more than she bargained for: a homicidal zombie.


**Written for the Enchantments contest, now posting on my profile. Just a little good supernatural fun. Enjoy! I, of course, own nothing but a whacked out brain.**

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"Brains!"

I screamed and took off running, knowing that of all the brains in this classroom, mine were definitely the yummiest. Other kids were smart and all, but I devoured books. I was the ultimate, personality-lacking scholar, thus making me prime zombie pickings.

It was my first day at Forks High School in the minuscule, barely-on-the-map town of Forks, Washington. As was the norm, it was raining. I blamed the wetness for my lack of noticing his oddness before it was almost too late. I showed up to biology, looking something akin to a drowned river rat, and my teacher directed me to the lone, open seat.

"Go sit there next to Edward," he said, to be precise. Still consumed by how horrible I probably looked, I trudged over to the seat and plopped down, shoes squeaking as I did so.

It was then that I noticed the smell of rotting flesh and the layer of soil smudged all over his body. A faint perfume odor emanated from him as well, as if he had tried to cover up the smell with some freshman's Victoria's Secret bottle.

My first thought was, "How have none of the other students noticed him?"

My second thought was something like, "AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGHHHHH!" followed by some unintelligible jumble of nonsense like, "FUDSJALSMDJFOAUSRALSUDAJ!"

Luckily my lack of coordination managed to be overridden by my fight or flight instincts, and I made it out of the classroom and back to my beat up tank of a pick-up truck in mostly one piece.

As soon as I was safe in Big Bertha, I took a deep breath, the first true breath I'd taken since leaping out of my seat. I hadn't run like that in years; gym class sure hadn't prepared me for an all-out panicked sprint.

It wasn't until I was pulling into the driveway of my basic, two-story home that I realized something strange. After I had left the classroom, no screams had followed my footsteps. It was as if everything had remained just as it was before I left, with all the children in their seats and Edward's secret intact. Hadn't he been there to munch some heads? Devour some brains? Chow on some cerebellums?

I mean, he was a freaking _zombie_! They weren't exactly known for subtlety. Pretty much what you saw is what you got.

Hopefully Charlie wouldn't find out about my skipping out on school. I only missed the rest of biology and gym class, after all. Hardly critical subjects.

I already had homework, so I locked the door carefully and sat at the kitchen table to attack my trig problems. That reminded me, I should check up on what could be used as a weapon. I didn't want to panic quite yet, but I needed a plan. I needed to contact the supernatural council of the Pacific Northwest as soon as possible, but until then I needed a way to defend myself. Charlie probably had an axe in the garage, and I could always use his gun in an extreme emergency. That ought to cover me for now.

I finished my homework by five o'clock and wandered into the kitchen to continue distracting myself. I settled on making pasta, since it would give me time to hop on the computer. Since a watched pot never boils, I ran up to my bedroom to grab my laptop and opened it on the kitchen counter. Checking my e-mail, I found I already had a welcoming message from the council's main relations person, one Alice Cullen. Her e-mail seemed a tad on the perky side for contacting someone she had yet to actually meet. Probably a pixie. Irritating little buggers.

Rolling my eyes, I sent a reply detailing what had happened in bio class today. They'd want to check it out probably and then decide what actions needed to be taken. With most supernaturals, they could simply lay down the ground rules and keep an eye on them, but zombies were wild. They needed to be managed before a full-blown apocalypse began.

I clicked send and checked the pasta pot, which was boiling steadily. Perfect. I poured in some spaghetti noodles and turned on the radio to dance clumsily about the kitchen.

Then three things happened simultaneously.

Charlie walked in the front door.  
The radio flipped to "It's the End of the World as We Know It" by R.E.M.  
And as I drained the pasta in the sink, I realized the spaghetti looked like brains.

The heavy pot dropped with a metallic clang that reverberated throughout the kitchen, followed by a squeaking "Yelp!" akin to a fallen kitten.

"What's wrong, Bells?" Charlie called from the front foyer.

"Nothing, Dad!" I called back, willing myself to calm down and breathe slowly. I couldn't let him know anything was wrong until I had proof and a reply from the council with instructions. If anyone at the school had been munched, he surely wouldn't be home in time for dinner.

I made sure of this over dinner, when I casually asked, "Anything unusual today, or did you just sit in the cruiser eating doughnuts?" The silliness helped mask the delicately restrained anxiety in my voice.

"Ha ha," he muttered, clearly not having noticed my worry. "No doughnuts today, just a few rounds of poker with the boys."

I sighed in relief. "Win anything?"

"I'm a cop, Bella. Of course I don't gamble." Charlie teased. "And I won $8.50, a few pencils, and a Rob Zombie CD."

I choked on my spaghetti brains.

Recovering quickly, I asked, "Who on earth had that with them at the station?"

Charlie shook his head and laughed. "Mark, who of course tried to pass it off as his wife's."

Soon we returned to the comfortable silence that was the norm between us, and dinner ended without Charlie needing to give me the Heimlich.

Up in my room that night, I turned around in circles, analyzing every household item for possible makeshift weaponry. Metal nail file. Sharpened pencils. Geometry compass. None of which were ideal for a true face-off, but all would help me slow down "Edward" so I could get away safely. And no one would find anything suspicious about bringing these to school. As much as I would love to sneak in Charlie's ax, it would probably get me expelled before I even got settled at Forks High.

The next day, however, Edward didn't show. And the next. And the next. And the next.

I spent the whole weekend worrying over where he could have gone. I sent another e-mail to the council, and an emergency meeting was scheduled for Monday night. We could have a rogue zombie on the loose, and we had no clue where he was. If anything was worse than trying to protect innocent citizens from zombies, it was trying to protect them from zombies you couldn't find.

That Monday, Edward was back, and he tried to kill me. I mean, it's true, zombies aren't the best of drivers, but you have to be pretty damn bad to skid a car across an entire parking lot...with dry pavement. But skid he did, in a feat masterful for even the most expert drifter.

I barely managed to dive out of the way, with only some major road rash and a twisted ankle to show for it. Better than dying, any day of the week, in my book. Unfortunately someone still called 911, and Charlie made me get checked out at the hospital. Nothing was actually wrong with me, and of course by the time I had finally gotten x-rayed so much I was sure I'd sprout a third eye, I had no idea where the murderous zombie had gone.

On the bright side, I got out of the rest of the day of school, though that was sure to put me even farther behind my classmates. Somehow school seemed like less of an issue when a zombie wanted to eat your brains out. Charlie dropped me off at home, and after convincing him I really was okay alone, he headed back to the station. Of course now I was left without Big Bertha and had no way to escape if some other crisis appeared.

Of course, said crisis _did_ appear, though not until much later. Not until Charlie was sound asleep and I was ready to head into the woods to meet the council. It was 11:45, and I needed to be in the clearing at midnight. I was scrambling around my room like the White Rabbit, running horribly late, when I was overcome by a peculiar sensation. I needed to look out the window.

I had enough experience with both real supernatural events and cheesy horror movies to know that following said peculiar sensation was not a good idea. But the thing those horror movies did not show you was that the helpless teenage girl was powerless to resist. When that sensation strikes, you have to listen. It's not like a craving for Oreos. If you don't look, you will die.

So, I looked. And right there, on my lawn, trudging up to my house, was Edward. I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming and raced down the stairs and out the back door. I needed to get to the council meeting, stat. They had to know that our lone zombie had clearly gone homicidal and take some form of action.

The grass and shrubbery were all damp, and I knew my feet would soon be soaked. I hated being pruny, but zombie-slaying came first. My feet would dry out and be back to normal, but my brains couldn't survive similar treatment.

I only faceplanted once, but I clambered upright and continued running. Soon, I had burst into the clearing, where quite an unusual group greeted me.

Picture three old witches, complete with pointed hats, black cloaks, stringy gray hair, crooked noses, rotting teeth, and, of course, lots of warts. Then change your mental image to three men with the same description, and you had the witches. Definitely not something you wanted to look at for long - so I didn't.

I assumed the three-foot pixie was Alice, though why she was sitting on a blonde-haired (and 12 foot tall - every NBA team in the country must want this guy) half-giant's shoulders I don't know. I certainly hoped they weren't in a relationship - I mean, how could they...you know...? Before I could follow that train of thought any further, I looked at the rest of the group.

There was a big, bulky guy with curly black hair and beautiful, floaty pink wings standing next to a tall blonde beauty that rivaled even Galadriel - this chick had to be an elf. Thank god she wasn't in my species or I'd feel even more intimidated. The big guy wasn't paying me any attention; he was busy pleading with the blonde, pointing angrily at his wings. Ooh, I liked this girl. Her sense of punishment was absolutely divine.

The last two were clearly also elves, though much less intimidating than the blonde. The man had white-blond hair, pulled back partway behind him in braids. He instantly made me think of Legolas. Clearly I needed to get out more, when I was spending my evenings likening magical strangers to book characters.

The woman had soft, caramel-brown hair that instantly made me miss my grandmother. She had a killer caramel recipe, and the best part about staying at her house was the endless quantities of the sugary goodness.

"Bella," the first witch-hag-man croaked. "So lovely to meet you."

"Yes, Bella. Welcome," wheezed the second.

The third just nodded. I wondered if he even had a tongue left.

The rest of the group looked at me at once. Where the hag-men (probably blind) said nothing, Emmett certainly piped up.

"Nice face, Bella," he chortled. If he hadn't said it with a big dimpled grin on his face, I'd have thought he was a complete asshole. But he did have a point - my face _was_ covered in mud.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff it. I had a little bit of an emergency on the way over," I retorted.

The pixie Alice flitted over, hovering at my height, two feet above the ground. I had a feeling she didn't want people looking down on her. But I mean, she was a pixie. Who wasn't taller than her?

She interrupted me by worrying in an exceedingly pixie-ish voice, which made sense, I suppose. Didn't mean I had to like it though.

"Oh my gosh, Bella! What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why do you have no shoes? Are your feet bloody? Tell us everything!"

I only barely resisted the urge to try to flick her away like a fly, but that wouldn't help protect the town against Edward.

"Oh, nothing. I just had a zombie after me. No biggie."

That definitely got the group's attention.

"Tell Aro, Marcus, and Caius everything," the first witch urged wheezily. I hoped he was referring to himself and his "brothers" in third person, as I couldn't see the names fitting any of the rest of the group.

I recounted to them everything, from Edward revealing himself on the first day but not munching anyone to his absence to his recent attempts to murder me...twice. This guy really, really wanted my brains. I knew I was good, but damn.

The caramel-haired elf, showing extraordinary emotion for her kind, pleaded with the witch.

"You must do _something_, Aro. We can't let the poor thing go defenseless against a homicidal zombie."

"I'm not defenseless -" I tried to protest, but she cut me off.

"Who knows how many other zombies are with him and how many may come after her - and the town. We must appoint her protector and give her the ultimate weapons. If only we could interfere ourselves, but we can't reveal our true nature. Better to let her, someone the town knows, take care of the problem."

Weapons, huh? I did like the sound of that. I mean, who would complain about possibly being granted awesome superpower-level weaponry, even if it was by some creepy witches.

"You speak reason, Esme," the second one grunted, as if reluctant to agree with her. "We must discuss this."

I wasn't sure how they could properly discuss if the third one couldn't speak, but then again, these were witches, and clearly old ones.

Of course, at that moment, the third one opened his mouth.

"We have agreed to perform the ritual on the girl," the third witch spoke smoothly in a perfectly normal voice. Frankly, it kinda took away from the persona. I didn't blame him for not speaking until now. How can you fit the proper role of wizened, decrepit hag-witch if you spoke just as smoothly as a 20-year old?

And then I realized what he'd said.

YES! I shouted in my mind, while doing a little fist pump. The half-giant gave me a sideways grin, and I realized what I'd just done. Oh well, it was boring being a human after all, especially knowing about all the supernatural creatures out there. Why did I get to know about their powers but not have any myself? Call me greedy if you want, but I wanted to not have to rely on an axe or some pencils to save my ass.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

Ten minutes later, I was simmering in a cauldron, feeling rather like an ingredient in some healthy newt eyeball and frog toe stew. The thick, goopy substance bubbled furiously, though I felt nothing but a pleasant warmth; it was like being in an incredibly stinky hot tub.

Blessed ingredients hear our call  
So this girl can save us all  
From zombie's death grasp save her head  
So she can send him to hell instead  
Grant her skin as strong as stone  
Strengthen even her funny bone  
Then add strength and super speed  
All the tools that she will need  
To save her life and save the town  
And never fear a killer clown  
Then a true hero she will be  
This, to you, we do decree.

As the witches chanted, the rest of the strange creatures danced around in circles in a form of spastic, whirling tribal dance. If this didn't work, I'd pay the big fairy dude back for his face comment.

The pungent smoke began whirling around me in a green cloud, like a mold-infested tornado. I could no longer see anything, so I closed my eyes to keep my eyes from turning green as well. The smoke particles began grabbing onto my skin, and it reminded me of the time I went fishing with Charlie as a kid and got leeches stuck on my arms. But of course these were smoke leeches, so smoking them off was no solution.

Suddenly, my skin started burning, and I screamed. The potion still wasn't hot, but my skin was burning like I was stung by thousands of fire ants. This superpower thing wasn't as cool as it sounded.

The smoke-tornado continued picking up speed, whirling and swirling around me, whipping my hair up and probably tangling it worse than any bedhead.

My hands lifted above my head of their own accord, and I felt like the mistress of the storm, an all-powerful being, a true huntress. Edward stood no chance against me. I was a goddess on fire.

And then everything stopped.

The forest was black once more, and the cauldron vanished. I continued standing in the spot for one second before collapsing. The last thought before I fell into unconsciousness was, _what happened to my clothes?_

* * *

The next day I woke up in the same state of nakedness.

The first thing to perk up was my nose. Something smelled divine, and I realized I had no clue when I'd last eaten. Food had been the last thing on my mind once Edward began hunting me.

I smelled all my favorite foods: warm minestrone soup and my grandmother's cookies and a hint of pad thai and peppermint hot chocolate. The combination should have been disgusting, but I just wanted to sink my teeth into all of them.

Eyes still closed, I reached out, expecting them to be floating in front of me. To my surprise, there was something there, but not a plate. I didn't stop to wonder at this though, as my stomach began growling. I needed this food, now.

I bit down, and all the delectable flavors entered my mouth in liquid form. I guess the hot chocolate won out. Someone should really go into producing this commercially - they'd make a fortune. One drink that contained so many delectable foods? It was genius.

All too soon, the drink was gone, and my face felt fuzzy, like I'd grown a beard overnight. At last I opened my eyes, and then promptly leapt to my feet.

There in front of me was a deer. A _dead_ deer. A deer with his throat ripped out. I brushed my hand to my mouth, and deer fur and a red, sticky substance came off.

I...ate...a deer...raw?

_No, Bella, you didn't eat the deer. You drank it_, my subconscious piped up.

_Shut up_, I told him. But he was right, unfortunately. I had drunk that deer, and he had tasted delectable.

I should've known the witches' spell would've had nasty side-effects. The solution couldn't have been that simple. But damnit I really wanted my superpowers.

That sparked something in me. Maybe I did have those powers. I ran a circle around the clearing. I felt like I was going fast, but everything was still perfectly clear - shouldn't it be a blur or something? That's how they always showed it in superhero movies.

My watch! I remembered. I put on the timer, and clicked 'go' then ran. As soon as I was back where I started, I pushed the button to stop the timer. 17 milliseconds. Oh. I didn't know exactly how big the clearing was, but I sure knew even Usain Bolt couldn't circle it that quickly.

I spotted a big boulder about a quarter-mile away and dashed over. I stretched, knowing this would probably hurt my back. I bent down, wrapped my arms around the rock, and heaved. It flew about ten feet in the air before crashing down, forming a miniature crater in the ground. I grinned. This was awesome!

I ran a few more laps around the clearing for fun, loving my new body.

I went back to the center of the clearing, wanting to see how high I could jump. This was like a dream come true.

Suddenly, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and the clearing was lit with rainbows. Forks must really be humid for there to be so many water droplets in the air. Then I realized the rainbows were coming off of _me_. Now that was weird - and possibly problematic. Note to self: only hunt zombies in the clouds or night, or else look like a kaleidoscopic diamond. And then I jumped - up above the tree tops and into the clear sunlight. Blood-drinking aside, I really did feel like a goddess. Or an angel, sent from heaven above. Call me blasphemous, but you try having super powers and not feeling rather awesome.

I didn't know how I looked, so I didn't want to go home, but I needed some clothes. In all the excitement, I'd completely forgotten I was still naked. I looked down at myself, and realized I had perfect, porcelain white skin. At least I looked _good_ naked. I dashed back home in thirty seconds, then listened carefully. I could hear even the mice in the attic, but no Charlie. Phew. Oh, he was probably looking for me. Damn, I didn't mean to worry him, but zombies came first.

I ran up to my room and threw on some clothes, tossing more into a duffel bag. In the bathroom, I looked at myself for the first time. I _did_ look good, except for the eyes. The eyes were bright red. I couldn't hide those from Charlie, no way. I guess I'd have to leave after all, at least until the zombie problem was solved. I tossed my wallet into the bag as well, then ran back into the woods. I could buy everything else I needed at the store, but I couldn't let Charlie know I had been back at the house.

"Sorry, Dad," I whispered, hoping he would at least think of a nice death for me, rather than assuming I was eaten by a bear or kidnapped by a psychopath.

I ran around town through the woods, until I was behind the grocery store. The soup/cookies/pad thai/hot chocolate scent was back, with an added scent that was nearly irresistible. I put two and two together and realized it must be the smell of people. If I had enjoyed the deer that much, humans probably were the Godiva of blood sources.

I held my breath, realizing the feeling was just uncomfortable but not possibly death-causing, then walked into the store, keeping my head down. I grabbed toiletries and a set of kitchen knives, then speed-walked up to the self-checkout kiosk. I couldn't risk speaking to a cashier who might recognize me. As I was walking out the store, I thought I heard someone call my name, but I didn't even stop. Soon I was back into the safety of the woods, and I let out my breath. I survived. Phew. I didn't think there was much of a history on vampires (I assumed that's what I was, as I did drink blood. Who was I to deny the obvious?) surviving grocery stores on their first day, but I was proud of myself nonetheless.

I quickly realized that, no matter how much I ran or jumped or lifted things, I never got tired. In fact, I wasn't even sleepy. This vampirism thing was like a never-ending supply of caffeine.

Since I had no clue how to find Edward, I decided to start at the school. Maybe I could dig - or sniff - something up. It was nearly twilight, a gloomy time of day when the little bit of sunlight that existed in Forks went away completely. But now, of course, the night meant cover. No one to see my dance-party rainbows of light, and no one to see me bend over to sniff the ground like a dog.

Ignoring the various delicious scent-mixtures of ice cream and mochas and fresh fish fry, I detected a subtle scent of earth and warmth, like fresh loam. I thought a zombie might smell a bit more repulsive, but I supposed he had blood once too, so it couldn't be all bad. With no other non-human scents to follow, I began sniffing my way after the earth. At least the scent trail didn't make my nose brown and dirty like smelling actual potting soil.

When I followed the trail into the woods, the scent became more difficult to follow due to the immense quantity of soil nearby, but my new super-senses didn't let me down. I could still distinguish the unique zombie-trail, all while not running headfirst into tree trunks.

Suddenly, I was out of the woods and in a small, yard-sized clearing of neatly trimmed grass. A cozy little cottage, all in browns with green trimming, sat with its back against the forest edge, matching the background almost perfectly. A simple garden of wildflowers surrounded the edges of the cottage. This was the home of a reclusive housewife, not a ruthless zombie. Who did he eat to get this home, a lonely old woman?

I paused to listen and heard nothing besides the squirrels. In a town with so many random supernatural beings, I wondered if the squirrels were maniacal or homicidal as well. But that was a pondering point for the future - at the moment I needed to get inside that cabin.

So, naturally, I tried the front doorknob.

And, unnaturally, it opened.

Too bad, really, as I could've used my super-strength to bust the door down, even if that would leave a sign that I'd broken in. Edward couldn't get away from me now; I was faster than Superman.

Stepping in the front door, I could instantly tell that the home was cared for, so Edward must not have been here for long. There was no muck on the floor, nor dead bodies that I could see. The only out-of-place item was a jacket that had fallen off of a coat rack. A man's jacket. That smelled of zombie. Clearly he expected to come back.

On the mantle above the fireplace were a series of pictures, but not of any old lady. At first I thought they might be her grandkids, until I realized that they all contained only three people: a man, a woman, and their son. Even more shocking, they were dressed like they were going to a 1920s-themed party. Inspecting the photo, I could tell it wasn't taken with any modern camera, nor were any of the others. But most shocking of all, the son in the picture was clearly Edward, non-zombie-fied. His skin was more tanned, and his eyes weren't gaunt like he'd, well, risen from the dead. Otherwise, though, his dead body had held up well. He must've risen just days after his death.

Then I started to wonder - why would a zombie have pictures of his family in a cabin in the middle of the woods? Zombies would eat their own family's brains in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. I mean, that was the basis of nearly every zombie horror movie ever created.

At that moment, the doorknob turned. I, the supernatural-awesome-superpowered vampire, froze in my tracks, still holding the picture in my hand. When my prey, my target, the subject of my hunt walked into the room, I'm sure I looked like a deer in the headlights - or a deer about to be munched by yours truly.

He wore normal human clothes and wore a normal human expression of shock. Finally, I found my mouth again.

"Give up the charade, Edward," I spat out his name. "I know what you are. You tried to get the brains of the wrong person."

"What am I, Bella? A zombie? Thanks for the reminder."

I was outraged. "How dare you try to make me the villain! I'm the superhero here. You've been trying to kill me since that first day in biology. You practically drooled all over your desk, while moaning 'Brains.' I had to have three crazy old witches and some woodland creatures boil me in a stew that burned me like fire ants so I could be safe from you and protect the town from you. And do you know what I got out of it? I have to drink blood! BLOOD!"

I should've killed him right then, but I was on a ranting roll. Then he made me the deer again.

"Now you know what it's like." Just six words. One contraction.

"What do you mean?" Now I was confused. How were he and I _anything_ alike?

"I must admit, that first day, your brains were the tastiest I had ever smelled. But I wouldn't have hurt you; it was a moment of weakness. You left, removing all temptation. I agonized over what to say to you, sure you would start a witch hunt - or zombie hunt - and come after me. But when a week went by and that hadn't happened, I decided to come back to school."

"Oh sure," I snorted. "Sure you wouldn't have eaten me. You tried to kill me in the parking lot, and again at my house."

"No, Bella. It was an accident. I was thinking more about what to say to you in class and less about how I was driving. Then, of course, I almost killed you in my stupidity. I came to your house that night to try and apologize for both accidents. But now you understand! You want blood like I want brains."

"I don't go around biting heads off, though. I may need blood, but I don't have to get it from humans."

"Do you think it's any different with brains?" he replied.

"Well I've never heard of a zombie who doesn't eat people, let alone keeps his own house."

"Well I've never heard of a vampire who doesn't drink humans either."

We were about two sentences away from sticking our tongues out at each other, when we both just started laughing. It was so absurd - a vampire and a zombie bickering over eating habits. Next we'd be asking each other if we ate brains with a spoon and blood from a soup bowl.

He was the one to decide to be serious again.

"You know, even now, your brains are still the best I've ever smelled. Yet, yours are the only brains I cannot access. Your mind is closed to me. This can't have been mere coincidence; I think we were destined for each other."

And he was right. I couldn't go back to society right now, but I had Edward. The one I had wanted to kill just five minutes ago. We needed to disappear before the Council decided that we were now both threats, but that wasn't a problem. We were both dead, after all. How hard could it be to disappear?

We spent the next few months hiding together in various cottages and cabins, watching every horror movie known to man. I would choose zombie flicks and he'd choose vampires.

It was more dysfunctional than a TV reality show, though we were never tempted to call in the media to make instant cash. We preferred our private life of hunting woodland creatures together.

I leaped onto the bear's back, snapping his neck and killing him instantly. It was too easy - there was nothing I could hunt that was a challenge to my strength and speed. Looking up from the bear, I smiled at Edward.

"Want some?" I offered. He loved watching me capture my prey, and though he didn't need sustenance as often as I did, he liked to join in on big game days.

He knelt down on the creature's opposite side, and we gazed deep into each other's eyes. Leaning forward, we went to lower our heads at the same time, bonking foreheads. Okay, so we didn't have everything figured out yet. After scrambling apologies, we were both against the fur, biting down, sucking the bear's life force like NFC North football teams.

The vampire and the zombie, together until the zombie started rotting or the sunlight decided to smote the vampire. Hopefully, that would take a long, long time.

* * *

**Let me know if I made you chuckle? Thanks for reading!**


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